Harry Styles Blurbs (Reader Insert)

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It was rare that he didn't hear from you in more than a few hours.

You two weren't necessarily the type of couple to be in contact all day, especially with both of your schedules, but you managed to text throughout the day, exchanging banter or playing a game of Words Between Friends. You liked to tell him about the people in your classes, like the girl in your seminar that always wore brightly colored clothes and instantly lifted your mood every time you went to that class. He would, in turn, keep you updated about what was going on at the studio. Even if it was in sporadic chunks throughout the day, you two wanted to keep each other updated. It had been a coping mechanism on tour that had stuck through long after it was over and he was home, warm and sturdy next to you.

But after your lack of response to his text about how he had gotten through recording the chorus of the song he was working on this week, and his questioning of how your classes were going today- he knew something was wrong. He also knew with the end of the semester fast approaching, you had been bombarded with projects and papers and exams. You were a hard worker, one of the many qualities that Harry admired about you, but you also had a tendency to overwork yourself and as he jiggled the key into the door, he suspected that was the case for your disappearance today.

"Love, m'home! Where yeh at?" he calls out down the hall as he begins to shred his trench coat. There's no response from you, and his brows furrow because he had spotted your boots lined up next to the doorway when he had come through it.

He peeks around the kitchen as he enters it and his eyes scan over the frantic scene he's fallen upon. You've got papers scattered and stacked to your left and right, pens and pencils spilling out from the small pouch you keep them in and your laptop stationed in front of you- all of the grand space that the island in your kitchen has to offer is completely filled. You've brought one of the dining table chairs into the kitchen and are sitting on it squarely, facing towards him but concentrated immensely on your work. He smirks a bit, taking you in amid the middle of the overwhelming mess.

You've got your glasses on, already in your pajamas and your hair is thrown into a lazy ponytail that he knows you spent no more than 10 seconds on, strands falling loose from it as you scribble away. Your brows are furrowed, tightly squished together in the middle of your forehead and your eyes are running far too quickly across your laptop screen, hand flying at a faster pace as you take notes. Your lip is caught harshly between your teeth and he has the sudden urge to pluck it from your scathing hold. You've got your headphones on and judging from the lack of head bobbing and finger tapping, he assumes you're watching a review lecture and not listening to music.

He takes a step forward, crouching a bit so you can get a look at him, hoping not to startle you. Your eyes deviate from the screen just long enough to spot him and his heart quenches at the tired, but sure smile you give him before tapping the spacebar on your laptop and pulling your headphones out.

"Hi," you greet in a soft voice.

He sets his jacket on the counter as he moves closer towards you, stepping behind your chair and putting his hands on your shoulders, kissing the top of your head and letting his lips linger there as he leans down to squint at your screen.

"Math?" He questions with a sigh, leaning back and letting his hands squeeze your shoulders, fingers pressing into the sore muscles there and trailing down your back as far as they can with the back of the chair in his way.

You let out a defeated whimper in reply and lean back into his touch, dropping your pen and letting your head fall against his chest, glancing up at him with tired eyes.

He chuckles softly, continuing the soothing kneading with his fingers and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

A moment of silence passes as you relax for the first time in hours, comforted by Harry's presence.